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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549502">Give Me Therapy, I'm A Walking Travesty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderstormsablaze/pseuds/thunderstormsablaze'>thunderstormsablaze</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Elite Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Manipulation, Song fic, Unhealthy Relationships, kenny needs therapy, nak is the only sane one, poor nak, sandwich don smh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:15:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderstormsablaze/pseuds/thunderstormsablaze</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's healthy, how much he depends on Don. It's healthy, how he doesn't question any of Don's orders. It's healthy, how Don shrunk his world down to two other people. It has to be, because who can he depend on other than Don?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Give Me Therapy, I'm A Walking Travesty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>based on "Therapy" by All Time Low. Because Kenny needs therapy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>My ship went down<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>In a sea of sound.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Kenny had Mox on his shoulders, his head tucked under his arm, he knew it was over. He just had to hit the move he'd done tens, maybe hundreds of times before, and it would be all over. And hit it he did. The champion's body tumbled to the mat and Kenny covered him, one, two, three. He did it, he won. The championship was his. One of the tarnishes on his record scrubbed away; he may have lost against Jericho but he redeemed himself here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moments after the pin stretch to hours, soaking in all the cheers from the crowd. Well, more like boos, but he can pretend. Can trick himself into believing they're happy for him, he has to. But who is he kidding, soon the boos shatter the facade, overwhelming the fantasy. So he turns to the man who had been cheering him on the whole time, seeking out some sort of comfort. The man drags him away through one of the tunnels, but it feels almost wrong in a way. Kenny doesn't know why, he's always used that one, but it's off this time. Like he's breaking a rule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once backstage he seeks out his longest friends, Matt and Nick, wanting, needing their support. But he can't move, a vice like grip on his arm preventing him from doing what he wants. In a rush, too caught up with Don's whirlwind to think for himself. He tries, he really does, trying to go find his friends and get his feet under him, but it's all too fast too quick. The pain and adrenaline clouding his mind, preventing him from finding his friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Don shoves him into the car all while Kenny tries to climb out, needing to get to his friends. But he's too out of it, can't get anything straight. Thinking up is down and left is right and this is fine and not fine. Nothing's working. All too soon the car drives off, taking him away from his friends, away from what he wants. What he needs. But… he shouldn't be worried, right? It's Don. One of his oldest friends. He knows what Kenny needs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When I woke up alone I had everything:<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>A handful of moments I wished I could change</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waking up, Kenny's disoriented. Not really sure how he got back to his house and into bed, but only knowing he's there. Everything after getting in the car is a blur, he was too exhausted and drained to tell what anything was. Reaching over, he feels the cold bite of metal. His eyes come into focus as he sees the championship belt next to him. Relieved it wasn't just a dream, he lays back down, content with everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is, until he remembers Matt and Nick. He jerks up, reaching out to grab his phone and bring it close to him. Turning on the screen, he expects dozens of texts and calls. Which is why everything feels wrong. He blinks, sure he imagined it. Turning off and on the phone again, yet still the lock screen stays the same. Very clearly: zero missed calls, zero texts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion sets in, he was sure they would have at the very least called him. Done something to check on him. It's strange, not having them there as he wakes up from a big singles match, stranger still to have no contact. He's been used to them staying with him through Japan, constant presences to comfort him, dull the edges of the pain. Unsure of why they never reached out, maybe they were just busy. That's it, they had other things to do after he was dragged off. His bucks wouldn't just abandon him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Kenny finds the strength in him to get up. Slinging the belt over his shoulder, feeling the cool leather against his skin, and walking down the stairs to the kitchen. As he approaches, the scent of bacon and eggs hits him. He yawns and pads quietly to the kitchen, spotting Don over the stove with a pan on the burner. A faint smile- not everyone abandoned him. He walks over to the coffee machine and pours himself a mug, leaning against the counter and waiting for the breakfast to be finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbeknownst to him, Don smirks over the pan. He knows full well Matt and Nick never called Kenny, and Kenny would be wondering why. Well the answer is simple but complicated. Don replaced Kennys phone, procuring one identical to Kennys and replacing them while the blond got ready for his match the night prior. Don knows Kennys habits, how the blond gets so in his head for important competitions he won't even notice a thing. Something Don plans to take full advantage of. The real phone chirps to an audience of none, waiting for an answer that never comes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenny takes the plate of food offered to him and sits at the table, getting energy back into his system after the night prior. He raises a question to his old friend, has he really pushed Matt and Nick away that much that they don't care about him? His gaze turns down before he can see the flicker of satisfaction across his mentor's face, one like a lion who caught it's prey. Don shrugs and doesn't offer an answer, mind wandering back to the phone crying out with no one to answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In a city of fools,<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I was careful and cool,<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>But they tore me apart like a hurricane</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All too soon Don finishes eating and cleans up from breakfast, getting ready for a flight back to Nashville for his company. Kenny barely notices, too lost in his own mind to pay attention to anything else. Suddenly alone, no one and nothing to distract him, he slips back into memory. Absentmindedly stroking his belt, at least the abandonment wasn't for nothing. He has all that matters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that doesn't stop how much it hurts thinking of Kota, all the long nights of laughter, love, and light wandering a country they called their own. That doesn't stop how much it hurts thinking of Hangman, how they grew so close despite their differences, how much he could rely on him as a friend. That doesn't stop how much it hurts thinking of Matt and Nick, two of his longest and closest friends leaving him so easily, so quickly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A handful of moments I wished I could change<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>But I was carried away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenny lets out a long sigh, longing pulsing through his veins as he takes out his phone again. Opening Nick's contact, he stares at his phone number. Thumb hovering over the call button, wanting, needing to call him. To find out what he did wrong. Why they left him. He may not like the answer, but at least then he would have an answer. Psyching himself up, he works up the courage to press the green button. Until an email from work startles him and he clicks on it, taking him away from the dream of reconciliation.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me therapy.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a walking travesty<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>But I'm smiling at everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next week is awkward, unbearably so. Matt and Nick avoid him at all costs, even going so far as to reschedule meetings to ensure one of the parties isn't there. It makes work a hassle, almost impossible to get anything done in a decent amount of time, but neither side gives in. All feeling betrayed and abandoned but lacking the courage to confront the source of the discomfort. It hurts, Kenny's always been on good terms with them, even when him and Ibushi fought the brothers in New Japan they reunited easily. But not this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenny watches from afar, seeing the brothers interact with other people, seeing the smiles on their faces, tension absent from their limbs. He knows if he tried to approach, that delicate balance would shatter. So he stays away until the time he has to take a plane to Nashville, Don having promised their appearance. Smile firmly on his lips, that and the glasses masking the hurt, the regret. Making his walls look a thousand more times more solid than they really are. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Therapy...<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You were never a friend to me<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>And you can keep all your misery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenny finally returns home from Nashville, exhausted after listening to Don drone on and on. He didn't want to hurt the other man's feelings and tell him to be quiet, but it kept him awake on the long flight home. And he just wants to relax and sleep before being dragged back into the world of corporate responsibility and avoiding former friends. So that's just what he does, takes a quick shower to get the stench of the airplane and airport and collapses into bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something wakes him up in the morning that's not his alarm. Kenny blinks himself awake, bleary and confused. A few moments pass before he can identify the smell, steeping green tea. He tenses up, not thinking he's in a huge deal of trouble because what burglar makes themselves tea, but having no clue who was in the house. He shrugs and gets up, pulling on clothes and walking downstairs, somewhat on guard and peering around the corner to see who it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh he relaxes, a genuine smile crossing his face, not one of the fake ones like he's used to wearing. This smile is strange, it doesn't belong on his face. Yet it's there anyway as he sees his oldest friend, Michael Nazakawa preparing a traditional Japanese breakfast for them. Kenny walks into the room and waves at his friend, falling into the familiar routine of helping him get everything ready as Japanese breakfasts are more complicated than American ones. With everything laid out on the table, miso soup, fish, tamagoyaki, and green tea, they take their spots at each end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kenny, I'm worried about you. What's going on? You're not innocent anymore, guarded. Something happened. You know you can trust me Kenny, please, tell me." Nak pleads, looking across the table at his friend who barely touched the food. He watches helplessly as Kenny shakes his head and gets up, storming out of the house and slamming the door shut behind him. The remaining scene of a man and food almost serene if not for the cloud of tension infecting the home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My lungs gave out<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>As I faced the crowd.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I think that keeping this up could be dangerous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's his first time talking to a live crowd and Kenny isn't ready. Butterflies swarm his stomach stressing him out over the smallest things. He doesn't know what to say, but he knows what he needs to get across. At least he has Don. Don, the safe space, the comfort in the sea of peoples eyes fixated upon him. He opens his mouth and starts to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly he hears the boos, feels the crowds disgust pouring off them in waves. He tells himself it's good, he's supposed to be hated, but he can barely convince himself of that. Not even having a safety net can help him here, he's on his own. He can't get enough air into his system, can't focus as the world spins around him. All of a sudden he feels a solid warmth on his hand, glancing back to Don who nods gently, silently encouraging him. Kenny nods back and takes a moment to gather himself again, build up the walls again, and starts talking once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he knows as he reaches the backstage area is he really, really doesn't want to do this again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm flesh and bone,<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a rolling stone<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>And the experts say I'm delirious.</span>
  </em>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock on the room he claimed as his own sends Kenny to his feet, going to open the door. It's not who he expected, he was anticipating the arrival of Don. But it's a Japanese man with a mixture of anger, worry, disappointment, and nervousness pouring off him in waves. Kenny sighs and steps back, letting Nak into the room. He watches the other man pace around a few moments before watching him open his mouth,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kenny, this is not healthy. Please, you have to see it. See how he's cutting you off from your friends, making you into his puppet." He tries to convince the blond who shakes his head, anger in his eyes. But, Nak thinks, at least it's something other than sorrow and helplessness. At least he sees small bits of the old Kenny peaking through the one without a soul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nak, you know I'm fine. Can't you see, perfectly fine. A-okay. No manipulation here." Kenny sighs and looks at him, "Don cares about me. He wants what's best for me. I trust him." He pleads, "just… you trusted me in DDT, you trusted me with AEW. Please Nak, trust me with this." Kenny watches the other man sigh, knowing he doesn't want to give in but seeing his resolve weakening. Slowly, reluctantly, he sees his friend nod, bringing a genuinely happy smile to his lips. He's not going to be alone anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me therapy.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a walking travesty<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>But I'm smiling at everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenny sits alone on his bed, Wrestle Kingdom 15 Night 1 pulled up on his laptop. It's late, or would it be early now, he doesn't know. All he knows is Kota looks like he's going to win. He gets excited, for once, it's a strange feeling, Kenny hasn't been excited about wrestling in a long time. Not since him and Hangman lost the belts, being with Hangman was fun. But he stops himself from going down that path, instead focusing back on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cheer escapes his lips before he quiets himself, then he cheers again because he's alone in the house, no one to disturb if he makes noise. Kota won. Kenny's heart fills with pride, even though he knows he has no right to be proud. He didn't do anything, but he still feels happiness, a rush of emotion. One he's been lacking for months. Kota won the G1 and he's smiling, he can't stop smiling. Pure joy, the first time in a long time. A small part of his heart wishing he was in Japan, celebrating the win with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Therapy...<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You were never a friend to me<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You can take back your misery.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much later that day Kenny wakes to the scent of green tea. He knows what that means, Nak is in his house, trying to get him to talk again. But Kenny doesn't want to talk, he made his choices, Matt and Nick made theirs. What else is there to talk about. Don's helping him. So when he walks down to the kitchen to get his food, he sits in silence, enduring the prodding from his only friend. Ten long minutes pass before Nak gives up, quieting down and eating before the food grows cold on the table. Ghosts of happy memories haunting the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Arrogant boy,<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Love yourself so no one has to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kenny can't believe it, it was supposed to be The Elite. Supposed to be the match where he earned Matt and Nick's trust back. Supposed to be the dream team of old, rejuvenated and ready to perform. So why did Don replace them? It's not like Kenny doesn't have great chemistry with the Good Brothers, they work well together. But it's been a long long time, and he wanted to reunite with Matt and Nick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The match passes in a blur, they win, of course they do, how could they not. Though a small part of Kenny is glad Don's trust in him wasn't misguided. Going backstage, Kenny knows the inevitable is coming. A showdown with Matt and Nick, finally a chance to air their grievances. Something Kenny isn't the slightest bit prepared for. He tries to find Don, get some sort of reassurance from him, some strength. But the mentor is nowhere to be found, so Kenny sits alone, preparing his walls once more for battle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They're better off without you.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>(They're better off without you.)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instantly, anger. Matt and Nick are furious, and rightfully so. They thought they were going to be in the match, but they weren't. They poke and prod at why, why Kenny did this, why Don did this, why Kenny trusts Don. Kenny tries to answer, desperately searches for some sort of answer. But he can't do anything to change their minds. They explode like an inferno and storm out, leaving Kenny to deal with the ashes they left behind. And the worst part is, he knows they're right. He hurt them, and now he's going to pay for choosing Don over them. But Don knows what's best for him, doesn't he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Arrogant boy,<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Cause a scene like you're supposed to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bucks have their match against Santana and Ortiz, just barely pulling out a win. Kenny cheers internally, he wants his ex-friends to do well, but he has to hide it. But then his stomach sinks, he knows what it's like to be beat down by the Inner Circle, and he doesn't want them to suffer that pain. Immediately, he tries to leave the spot in front of the TV, wanting to get out there to help them. But Don holds him back. And Kenny obeys, Don knows what's best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They'll fall asleep without you.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You're lucky if your memory remains.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurts him so much to see the brothers be beat up, not be going out there to save them. He really wants to, but he knows Don has a reason for not letting him go out there. He trusts Don. He can trust Don. Can't he? He has to. Else how can he trust the rest of the decisions he's made in the past. Else how could he justify letting Matt and Nick suffer alone in the ring. At least this way he may be remembered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Give me therapy.<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I'm a walking travesty<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>But I'm smiling at everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chaos of another Dynamite production slows down to a crawl and then a heavy silence. Everyone's gone from Daily's Place. Everyone except Kenny. He can't bring himself to go home yet, not wanting to go home alone. He's still alone here, but it's easier to imagine someone is elsewhere in the building so he's not totally alone. At home, he has to hold his demons at bay all on his own. A sigh escapes his lips, face falling into his hands. He hates feeling so alone, has never been this lonely before. Not since leaving Kota for the first time, and even that was brief before he joined the Bullet Club. But there's no end in sight for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He falls into the world of memories, all the locked away ones making themselves known. Hitting him with emotions like a truck, ones he hasn't felt in a long long time. True happiness, hope, laughter. Emotions he's kept locked away, not letting himself get a taste of them in fear he'll become too reliant upon chasing their high. His eyes well with tears, remembering the good times when he didn't have a care in the world. When it was him, Matt, Nick, Kota, or even Hangman against everything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon the sobs come, he can't control them, can't contain them. All the longing that had been building for the last three and a half months pours out, spilling down his cheeks, dropping onto his shirt. His body shakes, rocking back and forth in the spot. It hurts, why is this what's best for him? Why does Don think this is necessary? He knows pain helps people reach their full potential, but he doesn't want to keep suffering. Even if it means he can't become the best ever, his name won't go down in history. That's okay, as long as this is over.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Therapy...<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>You were never a friend to me<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em></em>
  <span>you can take back your misery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, his phone rings. Kenny wants to ignore it, leave whoever it is alone. The consequences couldn't be that bad. But instinct already took over, and he saw it was Don calling. With a sigh, he answers the phone. The invisible hand worming back into his brain, taking hold of his thoughts. Kenny nods, wiping the tears from his face and getting up. Ready to obey Don again, because Don knows what's best for him.</span>
</p>
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